Quotes About Nostalgia

I've been thinking back to when I was younger, before I had a clue about benzos or purple drank or even weed. I was so innocent. I wish I could go back and be that dumbshit kid again, naïve and full of hope.

Take it from me: If you hear the past speaking to you, feel it tugging up your back and runing its fingers up your spine, the best thing to do-the only thing-is run.

And I saw and still see everything that I do have, but no matter what, there is always the itch of what gets lost.

When I was a girl I loved fevers and flus and the muzzy feeling of a head cold, all these states carrying with them the special accoutrements of illness, the thermometer with its lovely line of red mercury, the coolness of ice chips pressed to a sweaty forehead, and best of all, a distant mother coming to your bedside with tea.

But in America's small towns, life hadn't changed much in a hundred years. There were few roads. Most people were farmers. Kids worked alongside their parents, and went to one-room schools. Toilets were outside, pits dug in the ground.

First loves were powerful and private,and they stayed with you for a very long time. A lifetime.(...) There would always be a small,intimate piece of your heart tucked away for the person you loved first.

Old books exert a strange fascination for me -- their smell, their feel, their history; wondering who might have owned them, how they lived, what they felt.

It's the exile's dilemma. The home they yearn for is never the home to which they return. If they return.

Pale hands I loved beside the Shalimar.

Seeing Cubism paintings at the Beaubourg makes me very happy and also old films.

I decided that, if I were to write a teen series, I'd want to set it in a place that was familiar to me - Manhattan, where I'd grown up - and I'd model the characters on myself and my friends.

Open the fridge and put My heart on a plate. I'm just as you left me, and I taste even better leftover.

La foto è il feticcio che ti dovrebbe riportare indietro il tempo, ma il guadagno coincide con la perdita: in cambio del ricordo di un te stesso precedente ricevi la consapevolezza di ciò che è definitivamente passato, dell'istante che non tornerà mai più mentre ciò che volevi era proprio fermarlo.

She understands. There is nowhere to go but on. Still, part of her longs to go back

She smelled of home...as if home had never been a place, but had always been this little person whom she'd carried alongside her.

You could see it every time you looked at her: layered in her face was the baby she'd been and the child she'd become and the adult she would grow up to be, and you saw them all simultaneously, like a 3-D image. It made your head spin. It was a place you could take refuge, if you knew how to get in. And each time you left it, each time your child passed out of your sight, you feared you might never be able to return to that place again.

To a parent, your child wasn't just a person: your child was a place, a kind of Narnia, a vast eternal place where the present you were living and the past you remembered and the future you longed for all existed at once. You could see it every time you looked at her: layered in her face was the baby she'd been and the child she'd become and the adult she would grow up to be,

It struck her then, as if someone had said it aloud: her mother was dead, and the only thing worth remembering about her, in the end, was that she had cooked. Marilyn

To a parent, your child wasn't just a person: your child was a place, a kind of Narnia, a vast eternal place where the present you were living and the past you remembered and the future you longed for existed all at once.

trompe l'oeil row of lockers marked the hallway down to the Social Room, a lounge designated for the seniors, where there was a microwave for making popcorn during free periods, and a Coke machine that cost only fifty cents instead of seventy-five like the ones in the cafeteria, and a chunky black cube of a jukebox left over from the seventies and now loaded with Sir Mix-a-Lot and Smashing Pumpkins and the Spice Girls.

Later, when they look back on this last evening, the family will remember almost nothing. So many things will be pared away by the sadness to come.

the way memories of a lost loved one always smooth and simplify themselves, shedding complexities like scales.

To a parent, your child wasn't just a person: your child was a place, a kind of Narnia, a vast eternal place where the present you were living and the past you remembered and the future you longed for all existed at once. You

It would disappear forever from her memory of Lydia, the way memories of a lost loved one always smooth and simplify themselves, shedding complexities like scales. For